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To my dearest
Papa
on
his welcome birthday
May 28th 1820—Hope End.
_________
The young Morn breathes her first soft sigh
So low so plaintive and so sweet
And breathing from the thin grey sky
The light airs kiss her fairy feet.
The smiles, engagingly serene
The burst of joy but half supprest
Danced in that throbbing breast
In vivid flashes seen–
Oh why’s her airy footstep lighter
Her smile more cloudless and serene
Why is that eye of radiance brighter
Today, than it has been?——
Yes!! tis his welcome birth who blest
Her eyes, with this delightful scene
Who bade her sight enraptured rest
On rocks—and hills of verdant green–
For half her beauties does she owe
To him for whom those pillars rise
Who bade perlucid waters flow
And waving foliage seek the skies!

To my dearest
Papa
on
his welcome birthday
May 28th 1820—Hope End.
_________
The young Morn breathes her first soft sigh
So low so plaintive and so sweet
And breathing from the thin grey sky
The light airs kiss her fairy feet.
The smiles, engagingly serene
The burst of joy but half supprest
Danced in that throbbing breast
In vivid flashes seen–
Oh why’s her airy footstep lighter
Her smile more cloudless and serene
Why is that eye of radiance brighter
Today, than it has been?——
Yes!! tis his welcome birth who blest
Her eyes, with this delightful scene
Who bade her sight enraptured rest
On rocks—and hills of verdant green–
For half her beauties does she owe
To him for whom those pillars rise
Who bade perlucid waters flow
And waving foliage seek the skies!